


Meanwhile, in the Cage...

by grookey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-04 20:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18351446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grookey/pseuds/grookey
Summary: Hurting, as it turns out, is a pleasant distraction.





	Meanwhile, in the Cage...

Since before humanity was even an idea, Sam Winchester was meant for him. The other side of his coin, his matching puzzle piece, his everything. Lucifer had waited millennia for Sam to be born and even in the cage...the feeling of his true vessel entering the world was indescribable. The anguish and pain of the cage melted away and for a brief moment it felt like Heaven again. Not Heaven before his fall, but Heaven in the time before. When things were perfect and he played with his brothers in the Garden, blissfully unaware of how what Father was creating would one day tear them apart.

For the first time in a very long time, Lucifer felt hope.

He should have known it would be ripped away from him, as all good things were. It was probably Father's intention from the start; to dangle Sam in front of his face and to tear the one human worth a damn away the moment Lucifer reached out.

"It didn't have to be like this, you know?" Lucifer is saying, not entirely sure whether he's speaking Enochian or English. Not entirely sure if he cares. The words probably wouldn't register anyways, Sam is too far gone by now to understand. The cage has wrapped itself around his mind, stubbornly coating that gloriously bright soul in black. "We could all be happy right now, if you had just said yes."

Sam doesn't respond, doesn't even move to show he heard the archangel. Lucifer understands, he really does, it's not Sam's fault. He's a weak little human who never should have seen the cage, much less been trapped in it. That doesn't stop him from blasting Sam against the wall of the cage; he thought it would make him feel better, but it doesn't. Not really. Human suffering isn't nearly as enjoyable as it should be when it's Sam and Lucifer hates it.

"Throwing another tantrum, brother?" As much as an angel in its true form can smirk, Michael is doing so. His form is curled protectively around the shaking form of his vessel; not his true vessel, but one capable of sustaining him nonetheless. He's been oddly protective of the Winchester's bastard younger brother for reasons Lucifer can't begin to fathom.

Lucifer turns to him, his grace pulsing with rage. He doesn't know what he's angry at, but he doesn't care; right now, it just feels like he's angry at everything. "Careful, brother. I can't kill you here, but I can hurt you. And your pet."

Michael's vessel looks appropriately terrified, slinking behind Michael and into one of the cage's corners. The boy has barely fallen to his feet when Michael strikes, not bothering with words anymore than Lucifer does when he fights back. There is no mercy in Michael's actions, which Lucifer is thankful for because he doesn't want to bother with that right now. He wants to tear and slice and he wants to hurt.

He gets all he wishes for by the time the fighting subsides and both archangels are forced to retreat to opposite sides of the cage to lick their wounds. It’s almost funny in a way. Michael is still giving him what he needs, even after all that’s happened, and even when what he needs is fighting and pain.

"Angels bleed light, I should have guessed," Michael's vessel croaks, before hiding himself under one of Michael's few remaining good wings. Most of them are torn and broken in ways that would usually at least make Lucifer flinch, but he feels nothing when he looks at them. Maybe it's because his wings are very much in the same state, maybe it's because he knows it could be worse.

Michael could be dead, and had they had that fight outside of the cage, he would be. Raphael would want vengeance, but he would be little threat. He was a healer not a fighter, he always had been. He would still be threatening enough that Lucifer would be forced to kill him as well. It wouldn't be difficult. Compared to Michael's metaphorical murder and Gabriel's...very real one.

He lashes out at Sam again. He’s not even sure why he does it. The sound of screams and breaking bones, the feeling of human blood on his hands, it’s not as rewarding as it should have been. It was Sam’s fault they were in this mess. Lucifer should hate him. He should hate him.

He doesn’t, not really.

“We could both be happy right now,” he told Sam anyways, his fist plunging through the human’s ribcage.

“More likely you’d both be dead,” Michael snaps. “You know I would have killed you.”

“Or, maybe I would have killed you,” Lucifer shrugs. “I can’t think of anything happier than that.”

Michael doesn’t respond. Lucifer doesn’t try to make him.

The cage is silent save for Sam’s pathetic screaming.


End file.
